


Hidden Behind the Mask

by QueenofSchmoop



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bisexuality, Costumes, First Time, Kissing, M/M, Spoilers for The Hobbit, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8166557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofSchmoop/pseuds/QueenofSchmoop
Summary: Sherlock is made to attend a costume party by Mycroft. Everyone attending is dressed in a costume (some with masks, others not). He meets John Watson for the first time there.





	

Sherlock was sulking. He knew he was sulking and he didn’t care. Some would say he should grow up and act his age. He didn’t want to do this. He turned in the car to say exactly that to his brother.

“Hush. You don’t get out enough.”

“I get out plenty!” He protested. 

“To murder scenes and to talk to your homeless network. Not to socialize.”

Sherlock scoffed. “Who needs that? I’m not you, Mycroft. I don’t need to have connections all over so I can use people when it suits me.”

“Don’t you?” His brother asked mildly. “You might find it would come in handy if you did.” He smiled slightly. “At any rate, you are going to attend this party. You will at least attempt to be civil to people and you will stay for at least 2 hours.”

“Or what?” He sneered. 

“Or I will inform Mummy exactly who it was who destroyed her vase when you were 5.”

Sherlock glared at him. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

A brief nod. “Buck up, brother mine. Perhaps you’ll even have fun.”

“Ha. And this ridiculous costume you chose for me--!”

“I thought it very apropos.”

He growled a little. 

“Now you’re getting the hang of it.”

“What exactly are you supposed to be?” Sherlock wanted to know. 

“Why, don’t you know?” Mycroft pulled a hat out of his pocket and put it on his head. “I’m the famous detective Sherlock Holmes, of course.”

“You are not.” He said it very flatly. 

“No, I’m not.” Mycroft chuckled to himself. He set the deerstalker aside. “I am, in fact, cleverly disguised as a member of the Commonwealth. Just an ordinary citizen.”

“Rather than Her Majesty’s Government?” Sherlock shook his head. “Trust you to come up with a costume that isn’t one. Then to put me in this!”

“You look quite good. Being a dragon suits you. I might even let you smoke a cigarette later, to get the smoke going.”

“Oh shut up.” He sat back, a little uncomfortable because of the tail. It was keeping him from sitting properly. “I’m not even a proper dragon. More an anthromorphic representation, a hybrid. Must I really wear the wings?”

“Yes, Sherlock. If it helps, it will keep people at bay once they are on. I’ll help you put them on properly once we arrive.” 

Soon, they did just that. Sherlock got out, sighing a bit. His costume had obviously cost a great deal of money. No doubt Mycroft had procured some wardrobing master to put it together. He grimaced as he swung the tail around. It did making walking more difficult. He watched Mycroft instruct his driver then step closer, the wings in his hands. He suppressed his irritation as his brother slipped them on. The harness was hidden under the leather vest he was wearing. The pants were soft and crushed velvet, with a sheen to them. Black, of course, as was the vest. The wings were sort of goldish red. He already had the contacts in--Mycroft had insisted--that made his eyes look golden. 

He stood for inspection, knowing he would not be allowed to go anywhere without Mycroft’s approval. 

“Wonderful. A fierce dragon, indeed.”

“I feel as if I am in a circus.”

“Nonsense. You look amazing. Now, come. And remember, Sherlock---”

“Yes, yes.” He waved a hand at his brother and walked. His steps felt more weighty, the wings not too heavy but still slowing his cadence a bit. He found that people parted in front of him, and he earned many admiring looks. He ran a hand through his hair and noticed one woman turn bright red. Dismissing her immediately, he made his way to a corner of the room. He wanted to sit but didn’t know if he’d be able to get up again if he did. So he stood. 

Mycroft came by a few minutes later. “Sherlock,” was all he said, the name full of disapproval. 

“Can I help it if there is no one here I would wish to speak to? Boring, vapid creatures, the lot of them?” He saw the stare. “Oh, very well!” He walked off into the throng of people, not wanting to talk to any of them. Then, as luck would have it, he spotted someone he wouldn’t mind talking to. “Mike,” he called. 

The doctor, dressed up in a costume that Sherlock did not recognize--popular culturally derived, no doubt, he told himself--saw him. “Sherlock Holmes!” Mike came over and shook hands. “How the devil did you get talked into coming to this? I know how you hate parties.”

“Yes, well, my brother was rather insistent. You were recently given a raise at work.” It was not a guess. 

Mike smiled. “Yes, I was. My research paper was very well received.”

“I read it. Not too stupid.”

Mike did not take offense. “From you, Sherlock, that is high praise indeed.” 

Sherlock felt his obligation was now fulfilled. It was just then that another man joined them. 

“Sorry, there was a helluva line.” The new man handed a drink to Mike, holding one himself. “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?”

“Not at all. John, this is a friend of mine, Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock, this is an old friend from medical school--John Watson.”

“Afghanistan or Iraq?” Sherlock asked the man.

John blinked in surprise. “Afghanistan.”

“Wounded, came home, bored and depressed.”

“Hey!”

“You crave excitement and danger. Even though you saw so much death and destruction.”

John Watson stared at him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Mike already informed you of my name.” He tilted his head slightly. “What are you supposed to be? You costume,” he clarified when he didn’t get a reply. “I presume that Mike’s is some pop culture reference I don’t get. But yours?”

“I’m a Hobbit. Bilbo Baggins, in fact.” He reached into his pocket and pulled a plain gold ring out. “See?”

“Another pop culture reference,” Mike clarified for him as he stood there puzzled. 

“Ah. That would be why I didn’t know it. I don’t bother with such things. Pointless data.” He noticed that John seemed to be staring at him. He turned. “Mike,” he nodded curtly and walked away. 

As he did he heard Dr. Watson ask “what the hell?” He did not hear the reply. He made his way back to the spot he had occupied before. If that was not enough for Mycroft, let his brother come find him. Surely by now he was sequestered in some room, drinking brandy and plotting world domination. 

After a few moments, when he was sure no one was watching him, he strode out of the room, wandering down the hall. He found a large doorway and let himself in. He looked scrumptiously around and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. He was just drawing in his first puff when he heard the door behind him open. He quickly hid the cig behind his back, whirling around. 

“Oh, it’s you.” He frowned. “What do you want?” He asked John Watson. 

“I was looking for the loo.”

“Three doors up.”

“Thanks. Um, your tail’s on fire.”

“What?” He turned and saw the flames. “Bugger!” He swatted at it but that just made it worse. Abruptly water cascaded down on the tail, his arse and his hand. He looked up to see John holding a now empty vase. The flowers were scattered around the floor too. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“No problem.” John leaned in close. “Doesn’t look too bad. It is a very impressive costume,” he admitted, a bit begrudgingly. 

“My brother made me wear it.”

John arched an eyebrow. “Did he?”

“Yes. Along with making me come to this silly party.”

“You don’t like parties, Mike said.”

“Not at all. Wastes of time.”

John smiled a bit. “Not always. Sometimes you get to meet fascinating people.”

“I never seem to.” He saw a frown cross the other man’s face. 

“I see. Well, you’re out now. If only Bilbo had been able to defeat his dragon so quickly.”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Bilbo Baggins. My costume?”

“Yes,” he made an impatient gesture for John to go on. 

“It’s from a novel written by a man named Tolkien. Called _The Hobbit _.”__

__“What an uninspired name,” Sherlock remarked._ _

__“It was subtitled _There and back again? _,” John said, smiling faintly.___ _

____“There was a dragon?’_ _ _ _

____“Yes. Bilbo is dragooned into going on a journey with 13 dwarves to help them recover them home--the Lonely Mountain. They left when a great dragon named Smaug came in and took it over. Bilbo has many adventures with the Company and eventually ends up at Erebor. That’s the Lonely Mountain’s real name.”_ _ _ _

____“I had surmised.”_ _ _ _

____“He has this ring, you see, that he found. It’s magic.”_ _ _ _

____“There’s no such thing as magic,” Sherlock said instantly._ _ _ _

____“In Middle Earth, the world where the story takes place, there is. This is one of 9 magic rings. It makes its wearer invisible.”_ _ _ _

____“Not very magical then.”_ _ _ _

____“Perhaps not. It also, though it takes Bilbo a while to discover it, gives its wearer long life. Very long life.” John fingered the ring in his hand. “Anyway, he uses it to try to steal from the dragon. But the dragon gets angry and flies off to the nearby city and all but destroys it.”_ _ _ _

____Interested, despite himself, Sherlock asked, “what happens then?”_ _ _ _

____“Bard shoots Smaug with The Black Arrow. Bilbo had seen the one place where the dragon was not protected any longer, where Smaug had lost a scale. The arrow finds it’s mark and slays the dragon.”_ _ _ _

____“I see.”_ _ _ _

____“More happens after that but you probably don’t care.”_ _ _ _

____“No.” He paused. “Tell me.”_ _ _ _

____John smiled for real this time. “The word please might help.”_ _ _ _

____“I can always just find this book and read it for myself.”_ _ _ _

____“You could. But you would have to wait.” John turned and took a step. “You strike me as the impatient type.”_ _ _ _

____Sherlock reached out and snagged the coat John was wearing. “Please. Tell me how the story ends.”_ _ _ _

____John turned back around, still smiling. “The gold the dragon had hoarded makes the dwarf king nearly insane and five armies come to fight over it all. The forces of good win, in the end, and Bilbo returns back to his home with a portion of the gold and the ring. And a few other mementoes,” he added softly._ _ _ _

____“And that’s it?”_ _ _ _

____“There’s a sequel book. Three, actually. _The Lord of the Rings _trilogy. It’s only a little about Bilbo. It’s mostly about Bilbo’s nephew Frodo and the Ring.”___ _ _ _

______“What becomes of the dwarves?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Some of them die in the Battle of the Five Armies,” John admitted. “Some of them live on. One of the companies member’s, Gloin-- his son joins Frodo’s quest.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Sherlock stayed quiet. “Thank you,” he said after a time. “It sounds positively silly. I have no idea why you’d chose to dress as such a stupid character. But the fight with the dragon sounds good.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______John had been frowning. Now, all of a sudden, he burst out laughing. “Sherlock,” he said, the first time he’d said the name, “you are amazing.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yes. I’m a genius.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______That made John laugh even harder. He shook his head. “Being gorgeous helps, I’m sure.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______That made Sherlock pause. “What?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh c’mon, you must know how good looking you are. Those cheekbones, those lovely eyes, those beautiful curls. Women’s fingers must twitch with wanting to touch it. Men too.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Sherlock’s eyes closed a bit. “Are you hitting on me?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“If I am?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“We just met.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“So we did.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You appear to be straight.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“And you appear to be a bit of wanker.” It was said with no rancor and Sherlock took no offense._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You’re bisexual?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Mmm,” John nodded, coming closer. “I’d love to have my own go at that hair.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Does Mike know?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“That I want to play with those curls? Likely not.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Not that.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“That I’m bi? Yes.” John moved fully into Sherlock’s space._ _ _ _ _ _

______This would normally make him very uncomfortable and he would move back but he found himself not budging an inch._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh, look at those lips! Perfect,” John all but groaned._ _ _ _ _ _

______Sherlock’s eyes got wide. “Are you going to orgasm simply from looking at me?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well, you are magnificent. Why, are you offering?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Not really my area,” he said, gesturing between them._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Men? Or casual sex.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Sex. At all.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______John blinked. Twice. “Really? Not at all?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I sometimes feel the desire for such a liaison,” Sherlock said, turning his face away. “But I’ve never--”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You’re a virgin?” John’s mouth fell open. “You?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“That surprises you?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yes,” he breathed out. “A creature as lovely and stunning as you are? No one--?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Sherlock watched him breath deep. “And now you want to be the first. For the conquest?” He asked quietly._ _ _ _ _ _

______John shook his head. “While the thrill of that might be nice, I would not rush such an important thing. I presume you have kissed before, yes?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yes.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hmm. Then may I?” John reached up a hand._ _ _ _ _ _

______Curious, intrigued and interested enough to consent, Sherlock murmured, “yes.” He felt a hand come up and tangle in his hair, brushing backward. He felt his eyes flutter and stored the information for further study. A soft press on his lips made him look down. John was kissing him. He kept his eyes open and watched until John pulled away._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Are you planning on reciprocating or making me do all the work?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“What? Oh. Yes, sorry.” He gestured and John leaned back in, their mouths meeting again. He kissed back this time but let John run the show. When he parted his lips a little, John groaned against him and dove in, coaxing Sherlock’s tongue to his own. The hands in his hair clenched tighter and he made a soft noise of dismay._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Sorry, sorry,” John gasped, pulling his hand free and wrapping it around Sherlock’s waist. “Bloody wings,” he muttered as he was almost hit in the face by one._ _ _ _ _ _

______Sherlock opened his mouth to respond but John was already kissing him again. It went on and on, their bodies crushed together, their mouths alternating between passion and gentler kisses._ _ _ _ _ _

______At last, John pulled back and away. “We have to stop.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Why?” Sherlock whined._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Several reasons.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Please list them.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“First, we just met. And while yes, we’re obviously attracted to each other, I think I want to get to know you better before I take you to bed. Second, I haven’t any supplies with me. Didn’t think I would need them,” he added in a low tone._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Third?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Your costume would likely prove very cumbersome to get off and on again. Also, you should know my hair is a wig. It’s much shorter and lighter than this.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Noted. Fourth?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fourth and finally,” John added, “if we do this now, we’ll be rushed. And I want to take my time with you. In comfort and privacy, to explore every inch of that lovely body, have it underneath and above me. To kiss you until neither one of us can breathe properly.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“We could leave the party right now. Oh damn! I can’t. I promised Mycroft I’d stay for two hours.” He lifted John’s hand, where a watch was on his wrist. “It’s only been 40 minutes.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I think we have to wait more than two hours,” John laughed softly._ _ _ _ _ _

______Sherlock sighed. “I suppose you’d like to go on a date or something? I’m not one for that. But we could have a late supper at Angelo’s, if you like. Would that count?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“It would,” John agreed. He started to move away. “Shall I meet you there?_ _ _ _ _ _

______“In one hour and 37 minutes.” He saw the puzzlement. “An hour and 20 more minutes I have to stay at this interminable party. Then the trip across town to Angelo’s.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Will you still be wearing the costume, oh Greatest of Calamities?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He’d forgotten. He looked down. “I’ll get rid of the wings and tail, at least.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______John was almost to the door. “I’m looking forward to it.” He winked as he walked out, leaving the door slightly open._ _ _ _ _ _

______Sherlock stood and pondered what had just happened. He was still standing there when Mycroft appeared._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Sherlock! Honestly, can’t you ever do what you’re told?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I was!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You ran away to have a cigarette and to not have to mingle.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I was with someone,” he protested. He saw Mycroft stop and really look at him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I see,” his brother said after a long moment. “Does this someone have a name?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“His name is John.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Mycroft’s eyebrow went up a little. “I see,” he said again. Then he got the smuggest smile on his face. “Now do you see why socializing pays off?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Sighing deeply, Sherlock walked away, wings moving a bit. “This is an extraordinary case.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hmmm.” Mycroft suddenly gasped. “Sherlock! Your costume!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______But Sherlock was already out of the room, and headed back to the party. He needed to find Mike Stamford again. He had many questions._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______End_ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Please note this fic was not Britpicked. Any mistakes are mine.


End file.
